


Soul Spark

by Kariki



Series: Hartmon Week 2016 [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cisco's a little bit of a jerk too, Hartmonweek2016, Jerks in Love, M/M, Not A Happy Ending, Not as much as Hartley because wow is he a jerk, Soulmate AU, might continue when not busy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6950392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kariki/pseuds/Kariki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Written for Hartmonweek2016, Prompt #1: Soulmate AU)</p><p>Soul Spark: The sudden rush of feeling a person gets when they make skin to skin contact with their soulmate for the first time and their bond is created.</p><p>It's amazing how long two people can go without actually making skin-on-skin contact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul Spark

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't have time to do much editing or have it beta read. I'll fix any mistakes tomorrow if I find them.

Soul Spark: The sudden rush of feeling a person gets when they make skin to skin contact with their soulmate for the first time and their bond is created.

* * *

The chessboard was an exquisitely made creation of mahogany and pine wood, carefully handmade and all the more expensive because of it. Hartley had admired it from the moment he had laid eyes on it when he first started at S.T.A.R Labs... when he had been handpicked by Harrison Wells himself.

He remembered that day so clearly. He had to use what little money he had saved up to buy a decent button down shirt and slacks, trying his best to look the part of a young genius that wasn't broke and disowned and damaged. People were more willing to give you a chance if they thought you had (or, in his case, still had) money.

He had entered the office of Harrison Wells, expecting to have to beg the older man into even considering him for a job, despite his impressive qualifications... he hadn't expected the man to smile and gesture to a chessboard, asking if he played. There was no interview to be had, Hartley had the job if he wanted it - hiring him had never even been a question in the mind of Harrison Wells.

The feeling that knowledge had given him was staggering and all consuming - relief, joy, pride - he was surprised his fingers hadn't been shaking as he moved the pale, pinewood - chess pieces across the board. It was how he imagined a Soul Spark would feel like, if he ever felt it.

Hartley held one of those pawns now, leaning back in his chair in the dim, cold office as he ran his thumb over the smooth, polished piece. 

He knew if anyone came upon him in the dark, cold office that they'd think he was sulking. The fact that he really was sulking just made it all that much worse.

Cisco Ramon was his age, almost as intelligent as him, and just as star struck as he had been when he had been hired. Had Harrison even interviewed him for a job or was Cisco another automatic hire? Did Harrison invite him to play chess instead of having him beg and cajole for the chance of a job?

Was Cisco his replacement?

Hartley felt something unpleasant squirm in his chest at the thought: Cisco might be reasonably intelligent but he was obviously immature, childish, and thoughtless if his choice of wardrobe was to be considered... he was also friendly, cheerful, well liked despite only being in the building for a few hours, and probably not carrying enough emotional baggage to weight down a freight train.

God, he hated him, on principle if nothing else.

"Um, Hartley?" 

Hartley looked up sharply, surprised at being addressed. It was six in the evening, most of the science staff had left, leaving the security and janitorial staff to do their overnight jobs and they were careful not to disturb him when he (often) stayed late.

Of course it was fucking Cisco Ramon.

"Why are you here?" Hartley asked, curt and to the point. He saw Cisco's mouth twitch in what he hoped was annoyance.

"Could ask you the same thing," Cisco said, walking into the room with his hands in the pockets of his blazer. "I'm here because I work here now." Cisco paused then shrugged, "I also don't want to keep getting lost my first week so just having a walk around."

"I walked you around earlier."

"Um, no," Cisco rolled his eyes. "You walked me to the main lab, said I wouldn't last a week, then ditched me."

"Hmm," Hartley said, not commenting on that. He looked at the pawn in his hand before setting it back down in its place on the board. 

Cisco sighed and ran a hand through his hair, now out of its ponytail and loose around his face.

"Look, we got off to a bad start," Cisco continued, offering a small smile. "We're going to be working together, whether we like it or not, right?" Hartley looked up from the chessboard. "I figure we should at least try to get along."

Cisco held out a hand and offered Hartley a smile that was nothing short of being unrelentingly hopeful.

God, he hated him.

Hartley stood up, straightened his sweater and grabbed his coat that he had left on the back of his chair.

"Try not to break anything," he told Cisco, buttoning up the coat and pointedly ignoring the hand offered to him. "Sanitation have enough to do without having to clean up other people's mistakes." 

The hopeful smile vanished instantly, the hand lowering.

"Good night, Cisquito," Hartley said, walking past him and out the door.

* * *

"Don't you think this is starting to get childish?"

Hartley hid a wince and stared down at the chessboard. He could feel Harrison's eyes on him, could feel the disapproval in the gaze. He didn't want to see it.

"He wants to act like a child, I don't see why I shouldn't treat him as such." Hartley said, moving his rook across the board. 

"You know there is no rule against t-shirts," Harrison smiled, capturing one of Hartley's bishops that the younger man had left vulnerable in his distraction. "I find them to be quite charming actually. I think you'll actually enjoy the one he's wearing today."

Hartley looked up, a look of disbelief on his face. Harrison continued to smile. "You can't be serious."

"Hartley, we both know this isn't just about the shirts," Harrison continued, his expression calm and boarding on parental. "I know you keep to yourself but you and Cisco are working closely together on this project. This imaginary rivalry you have is just that: imaginary."

"There is no rivalry," Hartley said calmly, pushing a knight into position. "I just think he should show more respect towards his work."

"And towards you?"

"I don't care if he respects me," Hartley frowned down at the chessboard, now seeing the dangerous position he was now in. "I don't need the approval of my lessers."

"Of course not," Hartley could hear the amusement in Harrison's voice, "but it makes work much more pleasant."

Hartley glanced up, quirking an eyebrow behind his glasses.

"For the rest of us," the older man added, moving his queen to check Hartley's king.

"Fine," Hartley sighed, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed across his chest. "I'll make an attempt at being civil."

"That's all I ask."

Hartley suspected Harrison knew just how much he was asking of him. Social interact was something Hartley rarely sought out. He preferred the company of computers and lab rats than other human beings. He didn't see the point in being 'nice' if you didn't mean it. 

He had no doubt that he wouldn't mean any civility he showed toward Cisco Ramon.

Entering the lab, it didn't take long for Hartley's eyes to find Cisco. The darker man had his hair loose once again, a hairstyle he's worn since his second day of work. Hartley is pretty sure it was to annoy him further. 

The shirt takes him completely by surprise.

It was dark gray with a purple silhouette of a cat. Under the cat were the words " **Schrodinger's cat walks into a bar and doesn't** ".

Hartley felt the corner of his lips tug up before he could stop himself. Dr. Wells was right: Hartley actually did like it. Still didn't make it appropriate but outside of work... 

"What?" Hartley looked up from Cisco's shirt, quickly schooling his features into neutral expression. Cisco was watching him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

"A shirt about Schrodinger's cat," Hartley nodded toward Cisco's chest. "It's an improvement on the cartoon characters I've seen you wear."

"What? No smug comment on how I need the reminder of who Schrodinger was?" Cisco scoffed, obviously prepared for an argument.

" _Do_ you need a reminder?" Hartley asked, a defensive edge entering his own voice. That civility lasted all of two seconds. "I was actually trying to be nice."

"You and the word nice don't belong in the same sentence." Cisco shook his head. "You hate my shirts. Did Dr. Wells put you up to this?"

Hartley pressed his lips tightly together, forcing himself not to tell the other man that 'yes, actually, why else I try to be nice to a cretin like you'. 

"Grow up, Cisco," Hartley sneered and shoved a clipboard toward him, pressing it against the cat on his chest. "Do something productive and earn your keep."

Hartley glanced briefly at his desk, at the data he was planning on going over and dismissed it. There were other, more hands on, things that needed doing. Hopefully he can find something to do with a hammer. He turned on his heel and headed out toward the door he had just come in.

"Wait," Hartley stopped as he felt Cisco's hand grab onto the sleeve of his sweater. Hartley looked up, meeting Cisco's uncertain gaze with his own icy look. "You... weren't serious just now, right? A-about liking my shirt?"

He did like it. He wasn't going to tell him that.

"Why would I like anything about you?" Hartley pulled his arm away and didn't look back as he left.

* * *

Hartley would have rather been in the lab working. That was true most of the time but now especially. Faux pine garland with lights was strung across the main 'party' room, brightly colored plastic balls covered glitter hanging from them, all joining at the star of the massive fake tree in the center of the room. Mariah Carey has sung about her Christmas wishlist for the fourth time in the two hours he's been here.

"You know, you could at least pretend you're having fun?" 

Hartley looked up at Ronnie's grinning face. There was a string of bright red garland tied around his neck.

"We both know I'm here under duress." Hartley glanced down at the festive Santa napkin he had been carefully shredding. "I don't want Caitlin to come track me down once she's had enough drinks and her patience runs out."

"Get it over with, dude," Ronnie laughed, turning his head to scan the crowd for his soulmate. Caitlin, perhaps feeling their eyes on her, turned and smiled back at Ronnie. She looked at Hartley, a look of hope on her face. To his horror, she grabbed the hand of Cisco and began dragging him over. 

"Even has t-shirts for Christmas," Hartley sighed, staring at the long-sleeved shirt that had a print of a Christmas sweater only with Mario and Toad instead of reindeer and snow flakes. Ronnie laughed, the jerk. "Do you ever run out of them?"

"Got one for every occasion," Cisco gave him a smug grin as he came to a stop at Hartley's table.

"Hartley," Caitlin was grinning at him, tipsy enough to bounce on her toes just the slightest bit. She grabbed onto Ronnie's arm, hugging it close. As far as soulmates go, they were disgustingly touchy with it. "Now? Can it be now? I know there's still maybe two more hours of party left but..."

"I'm not doing it for two hours," Hartley stopped her, holding up a hand. "I'll do it once then can I go?"

"Two and I'll give you the keys to the lab," Caitlin wagered, a playful smile on her face. "I know that's where you really want to go."

"I have keys to the lab, Caitlin."

"Actually, you don't." Ronnie reached into his pocket and pulled out a very familiar set of keys, held together by a treble clef keyring. The glare Hartley gave him was nothing short of withering. "Sorry but what Caitlin wants, Caitlin gets."

"Deviants, all of you." Hartley sighed. He looked at the clock and back over the crowd. He could spend the next few hours going over the new equations... he wouldn't be able to the next few days due to the holidays. "Fine, let's get it over with."

"I'm sorry but, what's happening now?" Cisco asked, looking between the three of them.

"No, no, no, shh," Caitlin took Cisco's arm, shaking her head. "Be nice so he doesn't change his mind."

Hartley didn't stay to find out if Caitlin told Cisco what was coming, he was going to find out soon enough.

The stage had been set up toward the back wall, a grand piano centered on it. Thankfully, that wasn't part of the arrangement. He nodded to the pianist and, after a moment of consideration, whispered two songs he was willing to sing.

As the song that was playing before finished, he heard someone - Caitlin - hit the side of her champagne glass with a spoon, making sure people stopped chitchatting to watch his annual forced performance.

Hartley could see Caitlin watching expectantly, Ronnie grinning beside her, offering him a teasing toast. On her other side, Cisco watched, a confused expression on his face.

Better to get it over with. Hartley nodded at the pianist and the first few bars of 'White Christmas' began.

He went through the songs quickly, pausing only briefly between songs to let the pianist adjust his sheet music to 'Have yourself a merry little Christmas' before leaving the stage without another word.

"Happy now?" Hartley asked, approaching a very smug Caitlin, holding out his hand for his keys. 

"Very," Caitlin grinned, dropping his stolen keys into his hand. "Thank you, Hartley. And Merry Christmas!"

Hartley quickly retreated from crowd, happy to get back to the part of his job he actually liked but there was no escaping the Christmas cheer. Garland was draped along the hallway to the labs with big red bows spaced evenly on each point. At least the lab would be free of most of the decorations - last he checked, only the door ways were edged in the stuff.

"Hey, Hartley, wait up!" Hartley closed his eyes and bit back a groan of annoyance as Cisco jogged his way toward him. Hartley frowned as he saw two plastic cups in the other man's hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. "What the hell was that about?"

"Which part?" Hartley asked. "The singing or Caitlin blackmailing me into it?"

"Um, _both_?" Cisco rolled his eyes. "I mean, I didn't take you for the singing type."

"What type did you take me for?" Hartley asked, stopping in front of the door to the labs. The door itself was actually locked with a code that needed to be punched into the keypad by the door... the keypad itself was what was locked. He opened the casing and pressed in the number.

"The Grinchy 'sits by himself the whole time and gripes about other people having fun in his presence' type which, by the way, you were fulfilling beautifully until you went all Frank Sinatra on us." Cisco followed him in, pointing a finger at him around the plastic cups. "I reiterate: What the actual hell?"

Hartley sighed and sat down at his desk before turning his chair toward Cisco.

"First year I worked here, I drank too much and Caitlin convinced me to join in on singing carols. She's badgered me every year since." Hartley shrugged, folding his hands over his stomach. "Happy?"

"You don't have to actually do it, you know." Cisco smirked back at him. "You can tell her 'no'."

"I could but then I have to put up with the puppy eyes and sulks." Hartley shook his head. "It's easier to do one or two songs."

"You know what I think?" Cisco started, setting the cups down. "I think you actually like it."

"Really?" Hartley asked, tilting his head as he watched Cisco open the bottle. He wasn't sure he liked where this was going.

"You could have just not shown up. Or, again, said 'no' when asked." Cisco shrugged, pouring the alcohol into the cups. 

"I'm obligated to be here and I told you why saying 'no' is more trouble than it's worth." Hartley eyed the cup, fighting the urge to complain about drinks in the lab.

"No, no, no, you like it," Cisco insisted, picking up one of the cups to take a sip.

Hartley huffed in annoyance.

"And if I do?"

Cisco shook his head, hands up in surrender. "Just sayin'. You don't seem the type."

"As you've said."

"I don't know, I'm curious now." Cisco took another sip. "It's like you had practice or something."

Hartley narrowed his eyes at Cisco. The other man was a lot of things, mostly a giant pain in his ass - not the good kind - but Cisco wasn't the type to use personal information against someone. From what he understood, Cisco and the rest of his family didn't quite get along though their dysfunction was no where near the level of his own family's.

"If I tell you, will you leave me alone to work?" Hartley asked, quirking an eyebrow in the way he knew Cisco hated.

Cisco rolled his eyes and held out Hartley's cup toward him. "Yes, I'll leave you to go all Scrooge during a Christmas party."

Hartley reached up and pushed Cisco's covered arm so the drink was back over the desk.

"My parents had me sing during Christmas parties," Hartley shrugged, turning to face his desk. "It impressed the guests and they'd all compliment them on how talented their son was."

"And you liked it?"

Hartley sighed loudly. "Yes, I liked it. Happy now?"

Cisco shrugged, looking down at Hartley's rejected cup, clearly thinking over something. It was no secret that Hartley's parents had disowned him, everyone in the office knew it. It was also something Cisco, for all his reminders that Hartley wasn't well liked, had never brought up. 

Hartley hoped he wasn't about to bring it up now.

"You could just sing for the sake of singing, you know." Cisco said after a moment. "None of this run around with Caitlin. She obviously knows you like it too, she'd never make you do it otherwise..."

"What are you doing, Cisco?" Hartley turned his chair again, crossing his arms. "What, do you think if you're nice to me on Christmas, we'll suddenly become friends? A nice Christmas miracle as we bond over shitty families and cliches?"

"No," Cisco glared back at him, his face tight but not as angry as Hartley had wanted to see it. "We're never going to be friends, Hartley, but that doesn't mean I'm just going to let you sulk on Christmas either."

"I prefer to be alone, Cisco." Hartley told him, slowly as though he were talking to a particularly slow dog. "Go back to the party." He nodded to the bottle still in Cisco's hand. "And no drinking in the labs."

Cisco rolled his eyes. "Fine. Merry Christmas to you, Mr. Scrooge." 

"Bah, Humbug," Hartley called after him, ignoring the smirk the briefly crossed Cisco's face as he left.

* * *

When Hartley was seventeen, he had come out to his parents. He hadn't known quite what to expect when he did but he trusted his parents loved and cared about him. They might not like it but they deserved to know, right? They were family.

Apparently, family meant more to him than it did to them.

For years, he had thought that betrayal was the worst moment of his life. That sudden empty feeling that had numbed his limbs and collapsed his chest when the people who should have loved him no matter what rejected him. Love that should have been unconditional had had conditions that he had failed to meet. His entire world had been ripped out from under his feet and he was left free falling into a newer, harder world he had no idea how to survive in.

Nothing should have been able to beat that and yet, something did.

There was a very significant chance that the Particle Accelerator was going to fail and explode, literally, in their faces. It was more likely than not, in fact. More likely by half.

And yet Dr. Harrison Wells, the man he had looked up to for years, the man he trusted and started to love like a father, had dismissed him. The superior look in the older man's eyes had been like looking into a glacier, cold and unmoving. 

Harrison, no, Dr. Wells knew all along that their project was a serious danger, not only to their lab but to the whole city. He knew and he was still going to go through with it.

Wells was going to start the Accelerator and there was a very real danger people were going to die because of it... and Hartley was going to let him do it.

He didn't care if he never found another job in physics again. He didn't care if he had to completely ruined his reputation by claiming the error was his own fault if it meant the Accelerator wouldn't be turned on. He could live with those consequences, that was not what was stopping him.

It was because there was nothing he could do about it.

Who were people going to believe? A no name, spoiled brat who just got fired or the great Harrison Wells? 

There was no competition, he had already lost.

The four security guards walked him out the door, not even letting him stop at his office to gather his things. Harrison clearly wanted him out and as far away from any evidence he might gather to support his claims.

Hartley blinked in the harsh sunlight as he was all but pushed out the doors, only just stopping himself from stumbling and falling onto the hard cement.

"Hartley?"

Hartley looked up and saw Cisco Ramon at the bottom of the short flight of stairs leading up to the front of the building. He was holding a cup of coffee and he looked... worried.

"Christ, you look like you've seen a ghost," Cisco continued, brow furrowing further as he watched Hartley slowly walk down the stairs. "Are you sick? D-Do you need someone to -"

"I was fired." His voice sounds numb... he feels numb.

"...What?"

"I was fired," Hartley said again, looking up to meet Cisco's gaze.

Did... did Cisco know? What Wells was going to do? What was going to happen? Surely he... he couldn't be the only person to run the math? Other people must know, must have found out...

Cisco was smart, almost as smart as him... 

He can't be the only one who knows... right?

"Oh, God, Hartley," Cisco bent down and set his cup of coffee on the ground. Hartley stared at the Jitters logo for a moment before looking back up at Cisco's face, now starting to blur. Hartley angrily reached up and wiped at his eyes, knocking his glasses askew. "What... What happened?"

Hartley didn't answer.

For the last year, he had fought with this other man for the attention of a monster... he didn't know how much Cisco knew, didn't know if Cisco would actually do anything to help him if he did know.

"Hartley," Cisco said again, reaching out to him and placing his hands on his shoulders.

" _No!_ " Hartley jerked away from the comforting hands, shaking his head. "Don't touch me. Just... don't fucking touch me..."

"Hartley, I think you need to sit down..." Cisco reached for him again, moving slowly as though he were afraid Hartley would run if he moved too fast. "Just... we'll sit down and work this out. I-I'm sure there's some misunderstanding..."

Hartley had never considered himself a violent person, had never actually been one to start a fight but when he felt Cisco's hand through the fabric of his shirt... it was like a river finally breaking through a cracked and failing dam.

"Don't touch me!" Hartley took a step back and brought his fist up, swinging before he fully understood what was happening.

His fist met the skin of Cisco's face and it felt as though his chest had exploded.

What was numb just a few moments before was suddenly full to bursting of so many emotions, Hartley couldn't even begin to describe them all. Love, hope, worry, pain, they were all mixed and they were all too much and... and...

"Fuck!" Hartley fell to his hands and knees, skinning them on the cement below. This... this couldn't happen, not right now. Not fucking right now!

He glanced up and saw Cisco standing over him, one hand to his jaw and a shocked expression on his face. There was understanding in his eyes... there was hope.

Hartley felt more tears sting at his own eyes.

"Hartley..." Cisco reached for him, offering to pull him up off the ground... maybe embrace him... that's what soulmates did right? When they finally find each other? Hug and kiss and everything would be alright.

Everything wasn't alright. Everything was fucking _fucked_.

"No..." Hartley shook his head, scrambling away from Cisco and climbing to his feet. "I... I can't do this. I can't fucking do this..." 

"Hartley!" Cisco called after him but he didn't stop, didn't turn around.

It was too much, everything was too much. People were going to die and he had found his soulmate and they were just fucked. He didn't know if Cisco was in on it ( _no, please, no_ ) or if Cisco was as oblivious to what Wells really was just like he had been...

"Don't... don't come near me, Cisco," Hartley shook his head, hurrying over to his car and ignoring the shocked pain in the other's face. It was better like this... he couldn't even _think_ , there was too much! Too much...

"I'm... I'm sorry," Hartley choked out, pushing back the waves of hurt and concern crashing through the newly formed bond from Cisco. He slammed the door to his car and left S.T.A.R labs with the sound of squealing tires.

It was... it was better like this.

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt got out of hand and I almost didn't finish it in time. I actually had to cut out a few scenes and I might end up writing more for this eventually.
> 
> Also: Cisco's 'Schrodinger's cat' shirt really exists and Hartley miiiight end up stealing it eventually. In a happier verse.


End file.
